The Kazekage and the Pianist
by Ozuma and Blank's Lil' Kitten
Summary: How can a wimpy pianist be mistaken for the swordsman that had sworn to protect the Kazekage with his life? How did he even get himself in this fix?


Title: The Kazekage and the Pianist  
Warnings: Shounen-ai (it literally means boy-love. Do NOT mix it with yaoi, please. There won't be any of that heavy stuff here; just because a story has same-gender pairings, that doesn't mean it'll be dirty!), mentions of death, angst and romance aplenty, along with a smidgen of humor. There might be some spoilers, I guess, if you're _really_ behind in the anime  
Pairings: Just Mist/Gaara for the moment. If I decide to include more, you'll be forewarned. (I don't like surprises, myself)

Summary: This is hardly your typical 'boy (or girl, whatever) gets sucked into the Naruto world' story; not even close. Meet Mist Shidou, pianist extraordinaire. One night, he gazes into his treasure, and gets taken to a strange world. Only thing is, he's still in the same world, but the time period is a different story. It's a world of conflict, strife, and… NINJA?! Not only that, everyone seems to have him confused with Mist Shidou, the traveling mercenary that was supposedly killed in battle - this includes the warrior's beloved…  
Will he ever be able to find a way back to his own time? And what about the Kazekage? Where does he fit in all of this?  
_Sorry, but summaries have never been my forte! Sorry!_

Disclaimer: I'm so not in the mood for this… _grumble_ I don't own Naruto, or any of its characters. Lawyers, back off! Come anywhere near my Gaara stuff, and you will be blown into smithereens! _pant_

Claimer: Mist Shidou is my own character, taken from my novel 'Bluebell'. If you would like to borrow him, please ask me first. Thank you.

Chapter 1  
I'm a Musician, Not a Swordsman…

"Another breathtaking experience, Shidou-san."  
"Oh, I wouldn't know…" **Feign modesty.**  
"That last piece… did you truly arrange it yourself?"  
"Why, yes… Was it to your liking?" **Feign embarrassment.**  
"Such an inspiration, you are! Would you please sign this manuscript for my daughter? She's such a fan of yours."  
"Anything for an aspiring musician." **Feign awe.**  
A round of applause, the chorus for an encore, people surrounding him and congratulating him on his wonderful gift at playing the piano; they used to excite him at first, made him feel grand and important. Now, it had all become so mundane - routine, even. He was starting to get bored by it all.  
Still, it's not as if he was unhappy. He loved to play the piano more than anything. If he wasn't eating or sleeping, he would be hunched over his precious instrument, fingers manipulating black and ivory keys with incredible ease. And, if he wasn't doing that, he could be seen sitting at his desk, writing a new piece of music, or arranging a song he fancied for the grand instrument he so favored.  
So, now that he had achieved all this success doing something he held so dear and close to his heart, why was he left feeling empty? Like something in him was still incomplete. How could he know? Where could he search for this missing piece?  
As he drove through the streets of Tokyo on his way home, he decided to make a quick stop and get something to drink. After all, he had no plans or engagements the following day. A little drink, and then he could go home and sleep.  
"Oh, dear. Shidou-san! What an honor to have you with us!"  
His immediate greeting when he opened the door to his chosen destination.  
"Erm, yes… I'll just have tea and a glass of brandy. Such a cold evening, isn't it?" the young man said in his friendly manner, flinging his long ponytail over his left shoulder.  
"To be sure, it is," agreed the woman, who was more than happy to direct him to a table that boasted the best view of the area. After that, she went to prepare the beverages.  
'Why can't they ever treat me as Mist - the person, and not as Shidou-san - the genius pianist…? I do wonder at times…'  
He searched around in his pocket, then brought his hand in front of his face. A strange piece of jewelry lay nestled in his palm. It was a golden, star-shaped locket with a single blue gem in the middle. Popping it open, he stared at the image of a smiling blonde girl.  
"My, what a stunning locket! Wherever did you get such a lovely thing like that?" It was the friendly waitress again, who handed him his tea and brandy.  
"Um, it was a gift."  
He didn't have to say more than that. No stranger had to know that this was a gift from his childhood sweetheart; his fiancée… Certainly no stranger had to know that the love of his life was long gone due to a terminal illness…  
'Maybe that's my missing piece… If so, I shall never be complete…'  
The man, Mist, wouldn't say another word. The woman took the hint, and left him.  
When he looked at the image again, he began to feel most strange. First, his vision started to blur. He shook his head and rubbed his eyes, but it was useless. Soon after, his heartbeat began to race, and he found it rather difficult to breathe.  
'W-What's happening?'  
The moment that thought escaped him, his entire body felt like it was being ripped apart; like someone was stabbing him all over repeatedly, and he could do nothing to defend himself from the blows.  
"H-Help!" he tried to scream, but words completely betrayed him. In fact, his body would not cooperate with him at all.  
After minutes, that felt like hours, of pure agony, he blacked out.

v-v

"Eh…"  
When Mist came to, he was no longer in the empty, sans him, restaurant. He realized he wasn't home, either. His garnet red eyes widened to three times their size when he saw that not only was he in the open, but he was in a desert wasteland.  
"Huh? Where in the world…?"  
Suddenly, he heard a noise. He wasn't sure what it could be, but in the desert, it was bound to be something nasty and dangerous.  
"W-Who's there? I warn you… I know karate!"  
'Yes, Mist. If someone attacks you, you can tickle them to death!'  
He screamed like a little girl when he realized the sound was that of hissing, and when he looked down, he saw a long snake making its way towards him.  
"SNAKE!"  
He ran so fast, his sides began to ache and burn, but he wouldn't stop. He knew that someday his time had to come, but he'd be darned if it was going to be because a reptile decided he would make a good chew-toy.  
Mist's running only ceased when he reached the entrance to what appeared to be a village.  
"A village! I'm saved!"  
However, two guardsmen appeared before him, not allowing him entry.  
"State your business, stranger."  
"Um, you see…"  
"Which land do you hail from?"  
"Wha-?"  
"Wait a moment… Isn't he…?" Something seemed to have dawned on the first warrior, and he said, "Would you by any chance be Mist Shidou?"  
"Yes. How did you know that?"  
"Mist Shidou? The legendary swordsman?" inquired the second man, "But, did he not die in an attempt to rescue Kazekage-sama? I am quite sure of it."  
"Ah, but his body had never been found. Perhaps all it was, was a rumor."  
'Legendary swordsman? Kazekage? What are they babbling about?'  
"Listen, I didn't mean to cause an uproar or anything. I just need to stay here for a few days."  
"Well, yes. But, it is mandatory for you to speak with Kazekage-sama first."  
'A whole heck of a lot less frightening than dealing with snakes… whatever a Kazekage is…'  
The black-haired man was led to a large, strange building. Then, he found himself in an office, which was only furnished with a chair and desk laden with stacks of papers. No one was inside.  
"He must be at a meeting. Wait here, Shidou-san. Our leader will be with you very shortly." With that, both men bowed, and left.  
"This place is weird!" Mist shouted, hands resting at his hips. "I want out, and I want it immediately!"  
"Mist…"  
"Huh? Who is it now?" He turned to face the owner of the deep, yet soft voice.  
'What? This can't be the leader they were talking about. He's just a kid! Why, he looks younger than me!'  
He didn't voice his thoughts, though he was again curious as to how he, like the soldiers, knew his name.  
"Um, have we met before?"  
The young man before him was quite tall, but a few inches shorter than Mist himself. He was rather pale, which seemed strange to Mist. How could one be so pale when they lived in such a hot, sunny climate? His hair was short, but rather thick; a flaming red was the color of the strands. His eyes were almond-shaped, teal in color, and had strange black markings around them.  
What really got Mist's interest, though, was the kanji on his forehead. When he got a better look at it, he read the word: love.  
'How odd.'  
"Answer me."  
"I'm sorry, I must have zoned out. Could you run that by me again?" he asked sheepishly, his hands playing nervously with his ponytail.  
"Have you forgotten me?"  
'How can I forget him if I don't even know him? How should I answer?'  
He was startled out of his reverie when he felt something stroke his cheek; he jumped back in sheer terror when he saw that the strange man had one arm stretched out, and grains of sand floated from the tips of his fingers, touching his darker skin.  
The boy flinched a bit at this reaction, but Mist didn't catch it. He recognized the look in the wide red eyes from many years ago. He never thought he'd see them in Mist's eyes, though.

_You are not afraid of me?  
_**Of course not, Lord Gaara. Why do you ask?  
**_Because I am a…  
_**Monster?  
**_Gaara nods once.  
_**I never thought of you as such. I've seen many, many ferocious beasts and faced many dangers during my travels. Trust me, in comparison, you are no monster.**

So, why was he afraid of him now?  
"Look, I don't know who the heck you are, okay? I just need a place to stay where I can clear my head. It's dangerous out there."  
"Why are you afraid of me? You once claimed that you fear nothing." The stranger had his hands clasped behind his back now, perhaps to indicate that he meant the other no harm.  
"I never said that! What fool says a silly thing like that?"  
"You, Mist Shidou," was the cool answer.  
"Me? That's just plain insulting," he huffed, and his cheek puffed out a little.  
The robed man was beginning to have his doubts. This bumbling idiot couldn't be the same young swordsman that had befriended him when he was still just a genin on his rough road to becoming Kazekage. But, he looked exactly like him, sounded like him, and his mannerisms were just as he remembered.  
"Wait here."  
And again, Mist was left alone. He was half tempted to disobey, and run off like a child being defiant with their parents; something inside of him told him to stay where he was. He sighed, and sat himself down on the one chair. He didn't think he could remain standing for a moment longer.  
In a minute, the door reopened. A sword with a dark blue hilt was placed before him.  
"Yes, very nice sword," he offered, looking blankly at the weapon.  
"It is yours."  
"Oh, no. I don't accept gifts from strangers. Thank you just the same."  
Beginning to lose his patience, he reworded what he'd said, "This sword belongs to you, Mist. You had it with you on the day you started traveling across the great nations."  
"Unthinkable!" the other said, almost outraged at the thought of handling a weapon. "I, sir, am a musician, not a fighter."  
"What?"  
Another sigh.  
"I," he began, pointing at himself, "am a musician." He demonstrated this by tapping his fingers over the desk as if it were a piano.  
"You can't be," the redhead whispered, placing a hand to his chest, over his heart.

_I want him found. He must be alive._  
We will keep looking, Kazekage-sama. We will not rest until he is returned.  
_He holds the sword close to him, all that had been found that belonged to the master swordsman.  
A tear.  
He is not dead.  
And another.  
He was always foolhardy, but…_

"You okay, or what?"  
How was it possible that this man before him was exactly the same as the Mist he knew? Even his Chakra was unmistakable. This was no fake or a disguise. The man that stood before him was Mist Shidou, but his memories were completely different. He might as well have been a stranger.  
'Perhaps…'  
"Amnesia."  
"I beg your pardon? Are you referring to me?" At the other's nod, he said in indignation, "I assure you, my memories are perfectly fine. My name is Mist, I'm nineteen years old, I'm a pianist and composer, and I was engaged last year… Er, ignore that last part."  
But that's exactly the part that was not ignored. Mist? Engaged? To whom?  
"Look, it's obvious to me that you're mistaking me for another Mist Shidou. Wherever he is, I do hope you find him. Cheers." He got up from the chair, and began to make his way to the door.  
He had had enough of this place, this strange man with "love" marked on his forehead, and everything else that had to do with this overly hot land. However, he felt sand again; this time, the grains were wrapped around his wrist, effectively halting him in his steps.  
"Argh, don't do that! That's just too freaky!"  
"It never bothered you before."  
"I already told you! I'm not the same guy you're thinking of!" said Mist in exasperation.  
"There is no doubt in my mind that you are," the other said in a too-calm voice. It's true that he was unsure at first, but that feeling was all swept away when he felt that familiar Chakra so close to his. He may be acting strangely now, but he was sure that he'd revert back to the Mist that he knew soon enough; _his_ Mist.

vv

"Where are you really from?" the genin asked.  
"Would you believe me if I told you that I don't remember?" the warrior answered with a question of his own, admiring his reflection in the blade of his sword. Amongst many things, Mist was a rather vain, self-assured young man.  
Looking to the side, he saw the redhead shake his head once, his arms crossed on his gourd of sand, the gentle breeze caressing his hair.  
"Ah, but it is the truth, though," he admitted with a smile, planting his weapon into the ground as he loosened his hair from its confinement to braid it. He was feeling quite inspired today.  
"How can that be?"  
"I started to travel from village to village at a very young age. By the time I made it to the Land of Rivers, I could no longer remember where I hailed from. I _do_ remember I wasn't a happy lad back there, so it's certainly not a loss for me."  
"I see…"  
"Ne ne, you'll be re-entering the Chuunin exams soon, am I right? I bet your opponents won't even know what hit 'em. Heh, wouldn't want to be in their shoes," he said jovially, almost done with braiding his long hair.  
"Are you afraid of me?"  
"Certainly not. I like and respect you greatly, but I don't fear you."  
"You are not afraid of me?" He almost sounded surprised, but he did a very good job of hiding it from the taller man.  
"Of course not, Lord Gaara. Why do you ask?"  
Finished now, he turned to face the boy he was sworn to protect. Not that he needed much protection from him, considering how immensely strong he was, but… Baki-san had paid him a handsome sum of money to take on this request, so he'd accepted it graciously. Well, as graciously as you could accept something for 100,000 Ryo. Therefore, as strong as his charge was, he'd stick with his duty no matter what.  
His musings were interrupted when the boy began speaking again, "Because I am a…"  
"Monster?" Mist finished for him; he was no stranger to the murmurs and mutterings that went on in Suna. They saddened him quite a bit.  
Gaara nodded once, his bangs covering his closed eyes.  
"I never thought of you as such. I've seen many, many ferocious beasts and faced many dangers during my travels. Trust me, in comparison, you are no monster."  
"You wouldn't take that tone if you ever saw _it_," Gaara insisted, making Mist wince. People were always put at ease with his charm and easygoing words. Why was this boy so different, and didn't react to him the way others did?  
"I have a feeling that I won't be seeing anything. Your brother tells me your control is always getting stronger and stronger. Before long, you will be Kazekage!"  
"That is a very naïve thing to say," the other said scornfully, his gourd now strapped behind his back.  
"I was going for encouraging here."  
"You are so much like him…"  
"Who, if I may ask?"  
"Naruto Uzumaki."  
"Ah, yes. The great troublemaker of Konoha. I would like to have a meeting with him someday. See if he is as strong as they claim him to be," the black-haired boy said spiritedly, slashing away at invisible opponents with his sword.  
"It is a shame you never became a Shinobi with your skills."  
"I'll take that as a compliment, Lord Gaara, but I am happy being a mercenary. I'm pretty much my own boss."  
"How much were you paid to protect me?" he demanded, his arms crossed over his chest. It was a question he'd asked a dozen times, but Mist always found a way to sidestep it.  
"Has anyone ever told you that you have a very lovely speaking-voice?"  
"Mist, just tell me. I know you never accept a mission unless the price suits you."  
"Um," he was getting nervous, and he showed this when he began to play with the tip of his braid. "The amount isn't important, really. I would have accepted regardless of what Baki-san was willing to offer me."  
"I don't believe you."  
"My Lord, I speak only the truth, whether you choose to believe me or not."  
"Very well," he smirked. "I choose not to believe you."  
Mist laughed heartily at this.

vv

The young man was standing before the baffled Mist now. He had a strange, almost desperate, look in his eyes. He noticed something clutched in the darker boy's hands.  
'Isn't that…?'  
Without a word, he grabbed it from Mist's unsuspecting fingers, much to the man's chagrin, and held it before his eyes.  
"Give that back."  
Mist's objection was ignored, and he continued to stare at it, transfixed. He opened it delicately, and then let it fall to the floor.  
"Ugh! You're so clumsy!" the man said in disdain, and reclaimed possession of it with a small groan.  
"Who is that woman?"  
"Hey, now. I'm not telling you that. It's hardly any of your business." With that, he looped the chain around his neck and fastened the clasp.  
"You…"

**Mist holds out a star-shaped locket.  
**_What is this?  
_**A symbol.  
**_Symbol?  
_**Of my love for you.  
**_Tell me._  
**I love you, Gaara.**

"Whatever it is, I do not wish to hear it. I've heard more than I can take for one day."  
"You said…"  
"La, la, la, la, la…! I'm not listening!" Mist sang childishly, sticking his fingers in his ears to drown out the other's voice.  
The man in robes was getting frustrated by the second. He turned his back on him, and dug in his pockets, not really surprised that he couldn't find the treasure he'd been looking for. It was now being worn by Mist, who was still singing.  
"That woman's picture shouldn't be inside. Mist had already made sure it contained his picture, vain narcissist that he is." His features were marred with a frown, and he turned to face him again. He will get him to listen, even if it was the last thing he did.

vv

"Your first alliance mission with Konoha. This must be pretty exciting for you, ne?"  
"No, I can't say that."  
"Well, I am. The captain is the famous Copy Ninja, Kakashi Hatake. I have always wanted to meet with him. The speed of his hand seals, I hear, is unmatched," Mist said indignantly, trying to form the 'Ox' hand seal.  
"You are too easily impressed, Mist."  
"And you, the proud captain of your squad. I'll just be there as your bodyguard, if you will. You can always look at pretty ol' me in case you get bored, okay?"  
"Mist?" Gaara said in annoyance.  
"Yes, Lord Gaara?"  
"You are truly a narcissist."  
"Why, thank you," the other man beamed, somehow completely misinterpreting what his charge had just said.  
"That wasn't a compliment," the other chided.  
"Oh, well. I wonder where those bumbling lads are. I don't want us to be late in reaching the rendezvous point."  
Here, Gaara said nothing, his arms hanging at his sides. It was as if he knew the answer, but had no desire to share it with Mist. Maybe he ought to go look for them? However, not too far from where they had been waiting, the swordsman caught sight of Gaara's teammates; they seemed to be arguing with one another, shivering slightly.  
"I'm feeling frisky."  
"Pardon?" But Mist could say the most outrageous things at times. No one would ever really suspect that this man was one of the most talented swordsmen in all the Five Great Nations.  
Said man pressed a finger to his lips, and approached the two speakers.  
"BOO!"  
"GAH!" they squealed in unison, holding onto each other for dear life.  
"Mist! Why did you have to sneak up on us and yell, 'Boo!'" the brown-haired one grumbled, clutching his chest.  
"As if this mission isn't terrifying enough," continued the one wearing the bandana.  
"Aw, shape up, you wimps! There's nothing to be afraid of!"  
"But Gaara-sama is…" began the first puppet-user.  
"Don't say it, lad. Now, start running! We're pretty late as it is!"  
"They're afraid," came the soft voice behind him, the genin looking none too pleased.  
"Don't take it personally, kid. Those two are afraid of their own shadows," Mist assured, and then he yelled, "Slow down, you idiots! The captain is supposed to be at the front!"

vv

The man was still irritatingly singing whilst plugging his ears. The young Kazekage had never seen anyone act so childishly before, not even his friend, Naruto Uzumaki. He'd also had it up to here.  
Manipulating his sand, he formed a hand to cover the other's mouth, then another to grab Mist's wrists and keep them pinned to his sides. He was about to open his mouth in protest, but he had the good sense of mind to go back on that. He didn't need sand in his mouth.  
"You must listen to what I have to say. I will not release you until we have that agreed. Am I clear?"  
All Mist could do was nod meekly, though what he really wanted to do was impossible, with his mouth firmly covered and all. With that, the sand was removed from his person, and he was allowed to speak again.  
"Sheez… What kind of freak are you, anyway?" he said tactlessly.  
The other invisibly flinched, not showing in the slightest how much this man's words affected him. He kept his face neutral, and his eyes passive.  
"Do you at least remember my name?"  
"For the umpteenth time, I have no bloody idea who you are! You keep acting like we're really close and such, but I honestly have no clue about this place, those people, and you!"  
Without missing a beat, he said, "My name is Gaara."  
"Great. Now that the 'pleasantries' are over, I'll be going now," Mist said rudely.  
"We had an agreement," he reminded him, a warning tone in his voice, as if daring the other man to challenge him.  
"All right, I'm listening."

vv

"I must warn you, Baki-san. My services do not come at a low price. With having said that, I can promise you that all my clients get their money's worth."  
"Ugh, I don't see why we should hire this arrogant numbskull for anything," grumbled the puppet-master, Kankurou. He'd made it more than clear that he disliked this Mist character; not simply for the reason that he had hit on every single woman in the village, including his sister, mind you. This vain airhead was in no position to claim he could protect his younger sibling.  
'He's probably ten times stronger, if not more.'  
"Do you require a demonstration of my abilities? Obviously, stories of my adventures have yet to reach this sandy little village. A shame, right there."  
"Sandy little village?!" Kankurou exclaimed in outrage, readying his scrolls for a fight.  
"Stay down, Kankurou," Baki commanded.  
"But, sensei…"  
"Not another word."  
Nothing more was said between the two boys, but both remained glaring knives at each other.  
"Shidou-san, our request is of the greatest importance. We are ready to pay any sum."  
"Very well. I won't accept anything lower than 200,000 Ryo," Mist said with a wide smile, enjoying the horrified look on the larger male's face. He commended him for not protesting or anything of the sort. He was rather banking on seeing the spitfire losing his temper again.  
"With all due respect, Shidou-san, that is more than our land can afford. Will you not reconsider?"  
"200,000 Ryo," he repeated, hardly moved. If they promised that they were willing to pay any sum, then he was going to hold them to their word.  
Before Baki could negotiate any further, who should enter the room, but the one Mist was asked to protect: the infamous Gaara of the Sand. Mist's heart skipped a beat then, but he was determined to remain calm, cool and collected. Still…  
'What price did I say again? I can't remember… This little kid is "the scary monster" I heard so much about? How odd it is…'  
"Etou… I will accept any offer you can manage. I hereby accept this mission, and will carry it out until my services are no longer required," he mumbled, his voice having weakened somewhat.  
Turning his back on the two men, he now smiled at his latest client. He held out his right hand to him, which was ignored. With a bemused expression, he introduced himself, "Mist Shidou, at your service, Lord Gaara. No request from you will be deemed too small or too great for me to carry out."  
"Ha!" Kankurou piped up, unable to stomach any more of Mist's pompousness.  
"Bless you," the black-haired boy sneered, balancing the hilt of his sword on the tip of his index finger. If he'd been hoping to impress his charge with this trick, he was left sorely disappointed as he left the room without uttering a single word.  
"Now, then," the mercenary said, pretending that he was not bothered by the rather rude treatment, "I agreed to take on any offer you could afford. I will honor my word."  
"You'd be lucky if you…" began Kankurou.  
"100,000 Ryo," Baki interrupted with his arms crossed over his chest.  
'That's still a handsome deal. I won't have to take any jobs for a while with that kind of money,' the swordsman pondered to himself. He then nodded his head, and left the room as well. He was going to find the Jinchuuriki, and make a good impression no matter what.  
He was rather bothered, however, when he realized that Baki may as well have offered him a single Ryo, and he'd still have accepted the mission. Why would he even think like that? Mist Shidou was a gifted, talented swordsman, and a feared mercenary across many lands. He was also notorious for accepting missions at incredibly high prices. Most people that tried to hire him found that in the end, they couldn't take his services after all. His prices were always quite outrageous, and he never lowered them for any reason he was given. Why now?  
"My instincts tell me… the roof…"  
He wasn't surprised when he found the passageway to his destination heavily guarded.  
"I believe my client is up there, if I may."  
"Your name?" one Shinobi said coldly.  
"Mist Shidou," he answered with equal iciness, his right hand held behind his back, lithe fingers wrapped around the hilt of his weapon.  
Some of the men showed their discomfort at the mention of his name, and they allowed him passage without further ado.  
'Heh, too easy. I'll apologize to them later, though.'  
Soon enough, he found himself on the roof of the large building. He felt proud that his instincts were right on the bat once again, but he didn't expect any less, really. He'd have been quite alarmed had he been wrong, because that would have meant he was getting rusty.  
"What do you want?"  
'Ouch. Now _that's_ cold!'  
Mist rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, and sat himself down next to the pale boy. No matter what, he wasn't going to show any weakness, any sign that this was all a mistake. He was going to be the same, strong, capable Master Swordsman everyone knew him as.  
"I was merely curious about my client. We are going to spend quite a while together, so I thought it would be wonderful if we got to know each other better."  
"No, you didn't," the other glared, "As long as you have your money, you will obey anything."  
"Dear me… Is my reputation _that_ bad in the Land of Wind? Then again, it wasn't exactly peaches and cream in the Land of Fire, either. I swear, that Tsunade woman wanted to beat me senseless when I tried negotiating with her." He then did a rather bad impression of the Fifth Hokage, "'Mist Shidou!' she said, 'Mist Shidou, I will send you to the moon and back if you don't get out of my office now!'"  
At these outrageous words, Gaara just about managed to keep the chuckle he wanted to let loose in. Granted, he didn't expect this man to be the way he was presenting himself now. Not with the stories he'd heard of this warrior, hardly any of them good.  
"Is it true you once accepted a mission for 2,000,000 Ryo?"  
"W-What?! Where in the world did you hear such a thing?!" Mist demanded, aghast.  
"The stories here about you are endless," came the calm response.  
"And obviously full of crap," he said crudely. "The highest I've ever gone is 250,000 Ryo. Maybe someday I'll go for a million, if I were asked to protect royalty, that is."

vv

"B-But, that's impossible! I don't even know the basics of self-defense, let alone being a mercenary!" the musician protested weakly. "Why, once, an old lady almost broke my nose with her purse!"  
'Okay, he didn't have to know that. Stop babbling, Mist!'  
Either the other man wasn't fazed by the ludicrousness of his words, or he chose to ignore them. He kept his head bent as he spoke, "The rumors spread everywhere that you had perished in battle."  
"Oh, I need to sit down," Mist declared, going pale and holding onto his stomach.  
"Only someone as foolhardy as you, Mist, would think they're strong enough to take on the Akatsuki alone."  
"The what?" he demanded, rubbing sweat off his brow.

_Why is he not here?  
_H-He…  
_Well?  
_When the Akatsuki had you, Shidou-san chased after them, and we could not stop him…  
_He is not dead._  
All we were able to find was his sword.  
_Gaara is handed a bloodstained sword._

"You once swore to protect me with your life, but that was a promise you were not meant to keep."  
"That's it!" Mist bellowed, causing the other young man to raise his head. "You're a complete fruitcake, you hear?! I've had enough!"  
Without any room for argument, he made a dash for the door and ran for it. Looking back, he noticed that the man in robes remained perfectly still, his eyes closed. It was something that was vaguely familiar to him, but how that was possible, he could not possibly know.  
'Gaara…'

End of Chapter 1

Please, do review, but keep flames to yourselves. I've been feeling very depressed lately, and the last thing I need is something to bring me down where my writing is concerned. Remember that there's a fine line between constructive criticism and downright meanness.

This story may seem confusing at first, but things will get clearer as the chapters progress.  
Ah, Gaara is such a sweet character, full of melancholy… I honestly don't know how so many people seem to miss this in him. _frown_


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